


Head in the Stars

by pentameter_and_pen



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Captain Cobra - Freeform, Captain Cobra Swan, Captain Swan - Freeform, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-20
Updated: 2014-05-20
Packaged: 2018-01-25 19:44:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1660256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pentameter_and_pen/pseuds/pentameter_and_pen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>CS. Sometimes princesses aren’t meant to end up with princes. Sometimes they wind up with pirates instead. [Future fic]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Head in the Stars

Emma sighs with relief as she enters their bedroom, quickly shutting the door behind her.

“I thought this night would never end.”

Her first act is to take off the crown on her head, quickly placing it on a cushion on her dressing table. She breathes a sigh of relief, as beautiful as it is, the thing feels heavier each time she wears it. Looking over at his side, she sees that his still sits there, untouched. He’s always been uncomfortable with it, refusing to wear either a crown or his hat. She pushes it on neither. She’s just as uncomfortable with her own title. But she continues to uphold it out of respect and love for her parents.

At the thought of her mother, she looks up into the mirror – the one that has belonged in their family for generations. Or so she was told countless times. The old Emma Swan would not have been able to use any kind of heirloom. But now, years later, she loves the idea of passing something down. Though it may be because she actually has a family to pass it down to.

As she gazes at herself, she sees what he means when he calls their children the twinkle in her eye. The very thought of them has her smiling ear to ear, her lips now gently accompanied by laughter lines, matching the crow’s feet by her eyes.

Another thing she never expected, but she’s fiercely proud of every one of her wrinkles – like souvenirs from all their years together. Each of her grey hairs – now tucked into a graceful bun – has a memory tied to them. Emma Swan has taken to wearing her good moments on her sleeve. Or in this case her face.

Hope’s first word (“Dada” – a daddy’s girl even back then. Though she actually got that from her mother). Liam reciting all the names of the constellations, brushing his dark hair out of his eyes, as he excitedly points each one out to her. Henry dancing with her at his wedding, him shyly commenting that they found both their loves in Neverland.

Magic may come with a price. But no one ever told her just how much  _family_  pays forward.

And she has a certain pirate to thank for that.

She smiles as she considers this, his ultimate gift to her, their happy ending.

Her expression goes from content to knowing, as she sees the curtains blow inward behind her reflection. No wonder he hasn’t said a word. He never can hear her when he’s out on the balcony.

She turns to go to him, but before she does so, she gives herself a quick onceover in the mirror, smoothening her red gown, the fabric clinging to her in all the right places. Fifty years later and he still gives her butterflies. Fifty years later and she knows he’ll still smile at her and tell her she looks like a dream.

Stepping through the billowing curtain, she sees him leaning on the railing, clearly gazing at the stars above. She takes the moment to admire the view. Years later and he’s still as handsome as the day they met. She’d finally admitted it to him years ago when he’d asked her what her first thought had been upon seeing him. He’d smirked knowingly, saying that he’d known she’d found him attractive. Then she’d swatted him with a pillow, feigning annoyance at his ego.

She’d actually stopped getting annoyed at his admiration for himself pretty early on in their relationship. It was a small price to pay for each instant he called her ‘beautiful’, ‘brilliant’ or ‘ _Love_ ’. Emma had never been able to pay compliments – a reminder of her rough childhood, and just how well  _Hook_ knew her, because sometimes it seemed like he did the complimenting for the both of them. That’s when she started getting creative with how she repaid him. After all, no good deed should go unpunished – his least of all.

“Hey Stranger,” she calls out, quietly walking up to him. “You left the party early.”

She stands beside him, leaning on the railing too. He reaches and takes her hand in his, squeezing it gently. Emma’s glad they’d had Rumplestiltskin return it, because somehow it fits perfectly with hers. She isn’t sure if all their time together made it that way, or if that’s how they’d started out. But she’s more the happier for it.

He takes his time, gently pressing his lips to her cheek, and placing a kiss there. She smiles as she feels his stubble linger. When he pulls away she turns towards him.

The first thing she always notices about him is his eyes. They’ve always seen her for who she is – Emma Swan – and to her, that is more trustworthy than any reflection in a mirror. Tonight his eyes match the night sky, down to the little twinkles of starlight that seem to have made their home there. Slowly she takes in the rest of his face, realising that time has been as kind to her Pirate as it has to her – the lines on his face running parallel to those on hers, her partner in parenthood and marriage. His hair and beard still maintaining their dark colour, despite being peppered with grey and silver – he tells their grandchildren each hair is a result of his yelling ‘Emma’ and ‘Swan’ in frustration.

She tells them that their grandfather is simply sore because he’s yet to win a swordfight against her. He responds by telling them that perhaps their grandmother should not have been so beautiful, so as to distract him with her face. She never knows whether to smack him or be flattered. Sometimes she does both.   

“I get every night with you my  _Love_ ,” he says, smiling his softest smile – the one that she first used to build this idea of  _them_ , at Storybrooke’s boundary all those years ago. “I thought I’d be generous and let your adoring public have some extra time with their Saviour.”

“You’re their saviour too,” she tells him, running her hand across his leather-clad arm. It’s true, not long after they’d rid the kingdom of the Zelena, her parents had restored his naval status, making him lieutenant again.

However Killian Jones refused to acknowledge this, maintaining that he was and still would always be a pirate. So while he’s decked out in his full navy regalia, it seems that he’s fished out his old black leather jacket, from the days he’d first began courting her. Emma didn’t realise how much she’d missed it until she sees him in it again. He must have been feeling nostalgic for this.

“But it’s our anniversary,” she adds her tone teasing, yet understanding. “Hope wanted to say goodnight.”

His face becomes a little more serious at that. Forty-five years later and their daughter still has him wrapped around her finger. “I’ll speak to the lass tomorrow morning.”

At his words, Emma feels that familiar urge – one she’d felt all those years ago in Neverland, when she’d tugged at his collar and locked lips with him. And just like that she gives in to it, pulling him down to her.

Fifty years later and nothing’s changed. They can’t keep their hands off of each other, the kiss going deeper and deeper. The attraction building up in both of them.

Killian discovered a long time ago that the most effective aphrodisiac is her family, and he does not hesitate to use it. After all, that’s what got them their second son – Emma’s pride at Henry walking Regina down the aisle.

This time he’s the one to pull out first. Emma flashes him a confused look as he does. Instead he smiles.

“It seems that this is far from a ‘one time thing’,” he jokes, a cheeky glint in his eye.

Emma snorts at that, shaking her head at his words. She then wraps her arms around his waist and pulls him close. He mirrors the gesture, simply holding her close. She rests her head on his shoulder.

“I’ll never understand how you figured out the date,” she says, savouring the embrace. He still smells of sea salt and rum, even though he’s not been near the ocean (or rum) in years.

“That’s easy  _Love_ ,” his voice vibrates through her. “You just follow the stars. See that one there? The one a little to the left? The second one?”

Surely he must be joking. She turns towards his face, so she can follow his gaze. Her husband is right, there’s a star right there, shining bright in the distance.

“That one shone a little brighter the night we first kissed.”

“You were stargazing during our kiss?”

“You did tell me to wait five minutes. How was I supposed to keep track of the time?”

Emma blushes, thinking of how she’d pushed him away that night. But he never seems to bring that up. To him, fighting for her was a given. As he tells anyone who listens, “All good treasure must be earned.”

She simply smiles and kisses him on the cheek. She’ll never be able to express how much he’s come to mean to her. But fifty years into their marriage, it doesn’t hurt to put in the effort. 

“You know I love you right?”

It’s his turn to chuckle.

“If the lady insists…” he retorts, his tone teasing.

Over the years, it’s become his standard reply to any of her requests – be it taking out the trash in their apartment, or letting her take the lead as they face villains. Like every other aspect of him, it’s slowly become a part of the shared fabric that is them. One that Emma clings to every time she’s afraid or upset.

She gives him an additional squeeze and pulls away.

“Come inside Hook,” she says, leading him back into their bedroom by the hand. He smiles, following her lead.

She’s never been able to refer to him as Killian for a long period of time. She resorts to ‘Hook’ almost immediately. But she can tell that he doesn’t mind, it’s become her name for him. No one else in the kingdom, or in their lives uses it, David and Snow having established his name as Killian Jones the day they publicly declared him a hero. So he remains her ‘Hook’, just as she remains his ‘Swan’.

This time he replies with the three little words that have quickly become their personal declarations of love. The words he’s uttered each time she’s asked him to be by her side.

“As you wish.”

Looking at back at him, Emma sees a painting, the one from the last page of Henry’s book – the one of her standing over Hook, having just awakened him from a sleeping curse.  

The image calls to mind her mother’s words, uttered to her at their wedding, just before her father walked her down the aisle.

_Happily ever after…_

Sometimes princesses aren’t meant to end up with princes. Sometimes they wind up with pirates instead.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I just realised I hadn't posted this fic here on AO3. So here it is! It was written a few months ago and was inspired by Stardust. 
> 
> As usual, you can find the rest of my stuff on tumbler, ff.net or AO3. Please message me any thought, comments, questions and concerns! Thanks!


End file.
